


After an injury (Dean x male!reader)

by SupernaturalWinchester67



Series: Supernatural 100 Kink List & Kink Bingo Fics [20]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 17:26:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16837117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalWinchester67/pseuds/SupernaturalWinchester67





	After an injury (Dean x male!reader)

* * *

Dean hissed when you ran the needle and thread through the meat of his thigh. He grabbed his flask and took a long swig, clenching his other hand in the motel mattress. He kept quiet apart from the occasional sharp inhale of air as you stitched up the gash. It wasn’t too deep of a cut but it was high on his thigh and you knew it’d hurt like a bitch.

Your put a bandage on it before wrapping some gauze around the wound, tucking it in tight. Dean inspected it for a moment, tossing his boxer shorts down to cover it after another while you washed up. His eyes were on you, boring holes in your back while you picked up and put everything back in it’s place.

“I’m gonna run out for some-”

“Sit,” said Dean, patting the spot on the bed beside him. You looked away, Dean grunting and making your eyes roll. “Y/N. Get that ass over here.”

“I fucked up,” you said as you sat down, your hands moving to fidget with each other but settling on fisting in the sheets. 

“Yeah. So?” asked Dean. When you wouldn’t look at him, his hand came under your chin, turning your face to meet his. “You tell me a hunter that’s never screwed up before and I’ll tell you that ain’t a hunter.”

“I was sloppy and-”

“I got a boo boo. Big fucking deal. No one made me step in there, Y/N. I made that choice. Stop looking like that, alright?” said Dean, dropping his hand away.

“Like what,” you said, Dean sighing.

“I don’t know, just stop it okay?” said Dean, peeling off his shirt and tossing it to the floor. “I’m going to bed.”

“I need to be better,” you said. “I can’t let-Dean what the fuck are you doing?”

He’d grabbed you by both arms, shoving you down on the bed, not pinning you per say but getting right in your face all the same.

“If you’re going to keep whining, I’m going to give you something to whine about,” said Dean, reaching his hand down between your bodies, reaching to undo your belt when you pushed him off. 

“You’re hurt. No sex,” you said, Dean cocking an eyebrow. “I’m serious.”

“So am I. I’m not getting rid of you dickhead so if you’re going to insisit on keeping that sour puss face on all night, it might was well be for the right reasons,” said Dean with a smirk.

“You’ll rip your stitches,” you said, glaring down at him. 

“Ride me then,” said Dean, jutting his tongue out between his lips. “If you think you can handle it that is.”

“Shut up, dick,” you said, standing up and dropping your jeans, pulling off your shirt to find Dean chuckling when you spun around.

“So hard already. Just got to wink at you and you turn into a little cockslut don’t you?” teased Dean.

“You know,” you said, grabbing Dean’s hips, helping him out of his boxers with a grin, “I’d be nicer to me considering your position.”

“What position is that?” asked Dean, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Bottom,” you said with a smirk, Dean growling as you straddled his torso. “Hurt too. You won’t squirm with those stitches. Maybe I’ll just flip you over and fuck your little hole, Dean.”

“Save the dirty talk for when I can properly enjoy it,” said Dean, squeezing your hip, gliding his hand down to graze the tip of your cock. You twitched into his hand, Dean’s rough and calloused fingers wrapping gently around it, giving a few slow, solid pumps. “Relax, Y/N. I’m alright.”

“I know,” you said, leaning down for a kiss, Dean smiling against you as he continued to work you over. “Just…got worried for a second there.”

“Nothing’s going to get me that easy,” said Dean, rubbing his free hand up and down your back. You reached behind you until you found his cock, lifting your hips up to line it up with yourself. You lowered yourself down slowly, the cock head slipping in your hole easily, Dean sighing to himself. “Always so wet and sloppy for me.”

“You like to fuck after a hunt. I figured I’d take out the prep work for once,” you said with a grin.

“Smart boy,” said Dean with a grin, placing one hand behind his head, staring at the place where your bodies connected. “Taking it pretty slow there, Y/N. I fuck you too hard last night?”

“Never,” you said, slamming yourself down on him, Dean’s hips grinding up. “You stay still now and let me do the work.”

Dean hummed as you clenched around him while you sat up, biting his bottom lip as you started a rhythm of up and down. Dean was relaxed, lazily stroking your cock, smearing the leaking precome over the tip and under the head, your hips jerking up when Dean started rubbing his thumb in circles there.

“Faster,” said Dean, your hips grinding down until you felt his hip bones clash with your ass. You smirked as he started to match the rhythm you were setting, fisting your cock in time with your drives up and down his length.

“I feel you. You’re close, Dean,” you said, squeezing around his cock, angling your hips so it hit that sweet spot. 

“You first,” said Dean, planting his feet under him and thrusting up, hand jerking your cock as you rode him hard, spilling hot and white over his hand. Dean groaned as he spilled himself inside you, thrusting one more time before taking a deep breath, smiling as you pulled off his cock. 

“Fuck,” you said, laying down beside him, the wetness between your legs dribbling out as Dean reached a hand over, running it through your sweaty hair. “You want your cuddle now?”

“Shut up doofus,” said Dean with a shy smile. You hopped up to grab a washcloth, cleaning the two of you up before you crawled back in bed beside him. Dean threw an arm over your waist, tucking you into his body tight, letting out a soft breath on the back of your neck.

“Good night Dean.”


End file.
